Made Up
by friendlyneighborhoodfairy
Summary: (Nonbinary Month #5) Rogue is feeling…off. They can't place why, just that the mirror hates them—and they're at a very public event as a very public figure. Hiding in the toilets, they run into Midnight of the recently-pardoned Crime Sorciere. Midnight, attending to their own appearance, has something that can help. {Stingue and some Rogue/Midnight friendship.}


**A/N:** Fairy Tail + genderfluid (they/them) + nonbinary (they/them).

Worlds collide! This is a sequel to 2 enbie fics from last year: "Seven Ways to Care" (Midnight and Crime Sorciere) and "Old Times" (Rogue and Sting).

What I would give to have simple gender-neutral toilets.

* * *

 **Made Up**

Rogue stared at themself in the restroom mirror. Their tie was straight, formalwear well-fitting, suitcoat immaculate (thanks to Minerva nervously removing every bit of lint she could find while waiting for Yukino—honestly, just propose already).

The patterns on the tie were nice, subtle, and detailed enough to be…nonstandard to masculinity. They liked that.

It was still weird to see themself like this. They weren't used to it.

The restroom door opened and they hurriedly pretended to rebutton their jacket and straighten the lapels.

The person who flowed in they recognized—not well, but the face was familiar. They pushed back long, draping sleeves and adjusted some silver pendant they wore.

"Midnight?" Rogue asked, when the other caught them staring.

"Yes. Rogue, is it?"

Rogue nodded. Leaning against a sink, Midnight pulled a handful of tubes from their pocket and began applying more makeup.

"You're quick at that," Rogue couldn't help observing. They didn't usually strike up conversation with random people, but they still didn't feel ready to walk back out to the post-Games party just yet. With so many guilds and Sting being avidly social and young mages always coming up wanting to meet the Twin Dragons.

"Thanks. Been doing it ages," Midnight said. "Do you ever?"

"No," Rogue said, though they were inwardly pleased Midnight asked. It somehow made them feel that they weren't so masculine after all, to be asked a feminine question like that.

"With your features, you don't have to," Midnight said, shooting them a smile.

Rogue flushed under the compliment. "Sting thinks the same. I've considered trying it many times, but I wouldn't know what I'm doing."

"It's an art-form." Midnight applied something around their eyes. "It takes some time to learn, but if you like playing around, it can be fun. Like tattoos, it's a form of self-expression."

"Isn't everything about how we look a form of self-expression?"

"True. An expression of _something,_ anyway. It…takes a lot of bravery for some people." Their voice slid to a murmur. "Dressing more like what people think you should look like."

Rogue frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Assigned…sex," Midnight said, sounding like the words were dragged out of them. Rogue felt heavier hearing them.

"Ah. Yes. Well, it's not so much bravery for me tonight as it is…looking how I feel. Inside, I'm still anxious as hell about it."

"Wait, you're—?" Midnight blinked. "I thought you were same as me."

"Same? Were you assigned—?" Rogue couldn't say it either. They shook their head. "I'm sorry, not important; forget I asked. But you're saying that currently dressing like how people think you should for your sex makes you…?"

"Uncomfortable. Yes," Midnight said.

They both chuckled wryly, in that way that said, _I get it._

"Well, for what it's worth…I couldn't have guessed your sex from your appearance. So you do a damn good job of being yourself," Rogue said with a smile.

"Thanks." Midnight grinned back. "I wear gender however I see fit, but there are plenty of feminine days in that, and sometimes I still feel…a little…"

"Like someone will point at you and say, 'Hah, I knew you were faking it. You were really a _blank_ —girl, boy, et cetera—this whole time,' " Rogue finished.

"Exactly."

They nodded. "That is _exactly_ how I feel right now. Sure, I feel like myself. To be honest, I think I look…" Rogue glanced in the mirror. "I look good. But I'm afraid other people aren't seeing _me_ when they look at me. That they're seeing something different, picking up on gendered clues that aren't really there."

They snapped their mouth shut and inhaled. They hadn't strung that many words together all night.

Seeming to understand, Midnight gave a nod and held out one of the tubes in their hand.

"Eye shadow?" they asked. "It'll give a little rebellious flair."

"Sure," Rogue laughed. "Although I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Let me." Midnight motioned them to close their eyes.

Rogue smiled as they felt the gentle touch on their eyelids. Rogue just didn't get physically close to people—it made their skin itch—but they felt a sort of camaraderie with Midnight that overrode the usual discomfort and put them surprisingly at ease. Even having their eyes closed while a mage they didn't know well touched them.

"I'm glad we bumped into each other," Midnight said as they finished. "There, you can look. How's that?"

Rogue met their own eyes in the mirror once more.

It was just a tiny change. But it shifted the picture.

They grinned. "I look good."

"Damn right," Midnight said. They gestured. "Well, I'm done. Shall we?"

Rogue led the way out and held the door, Midnight giving a teasing curtsey as they passed. Out in the hall, Rogue nearly ran Sting over.

" _There_ you are," Sting burst out. "I was worried. Are you— _Damn._ You look _good._ "

Rogue blushed. "Thank you."

Behind Sting's back, Midnight winked at them and scooted off.

"I believe," Rogue coughed, "you promised that if we won the Games this year, you'd have certain…appetites."

Sting's smile turned feral, incisors showing.

"Yes. I did."

Before Rogue could say anything, he'd drawn them in and kissed the soft spot under their ear. Rogue's breath flew out, and then Sting bit them.

They made a sound between a yelp and a moan.

"Not here, bastard," Rogue panted, unable to stop smiling.

Sting looked around. "I bet we can find a room with a door that locks." He inhaled. "This is a castle, after all."

They let him grab their hand and pull them down the hall, eagerness thrumming. Catching up, Rogue tugged Sting through a door and Sting twisted the lock. Before Rogue could finish taking in the space, their back was pressed against the wall and Sting leaning his body against theirs.

"Just…quick…but…fuck, I love you," Sting babbled, hands in mischievous places, breath squeaking high when Rogue sucked on his neck.

All was right with the world.

* * *

 **A/N:** I love writing this pairing; they're so different and well-suited at the same time.


End file.
